Dawn of the Deserters
by Ann E. Casap
Summary: Failing to kill all warriors in the Northern Campaign, the Seven Ghosts, plus Galatea, join together to bring down the Organization once and for all. What trials awaits our heroes on this epic and perilous journey?
1. The City in Silence

**A/NN: Greetings Claymore fandom readers and writers! It is with my great pleasure that I am here today to present to you all my first and greatest work of all. I have read and loved numerous Claymore stories here and today is the day I finally contribute to this fandom and hopefully restore my OTP. It's been out for much too long. Two years, I have been planning for this story. I had been tweaking and editing the plot several times over so that the story would be as perfect and entertaining as can be. There will be romance, but it is slow burn; meaning that Galatea and Miria won't come together until three quarters of the story in. Apologies if this deters you, but I ****will not ****rush things here. Also, I tried to make up for the lack of romance with the main story, so that you all will not be bored with this.**

**Now, here with me to present my pride and joy is my fellow friend and servant, James A. Rodsworth. Say hi, Rods. **

**Rodsworth: Hello everyone. I'm glad to be here and it's an honor to help my useless lady cohost her fine work. Did I have any part in writing this? Nope. She likes to write alone.**

**Indeed. Now then! -claps hands together- let's get this show on the road! Please enjoy.**

**Rodsworth: *ahem* aren't you forgetting something?**

**Huh? ...Oh yeah! Claymore does not belong to me or my cohost here. It belongs to a Mr. Norihiro Yagi. See Rods, this is why you're here. All right, curtains up!**

_Act I: The Past, Present, and Future_

The sun's warming rays had pierced the bloody, battered remains of the city of Pieta. The awakened beings responsible for the destruction of the snowy city and the numerous corpses lying around everywhere had migrated south. The task force assembled to extinguish the threat had failed; they had all fallen, one by one. Not a single living organism had flourished in Pieta, the city stood in silence with the fleeting sun's rays the only thing dancing in the depressing scene.

For what seemed an eternity, silver eyes fluttered open for the first time. Phantom Miria, the number six of the organization and the leader of the Northern Campaign, had awoken after a long, uneasy slumber. One minute, she was fighting at the top of her game and struggling for life as shrieks of terror and death filled the hopeless battlefield and the next, everything was quiet. The silence was daunting; nothing could be heard for miles.

The second she tried to sit up, a sharp and searing pain shot up her lower right side. Immediately regretting her action, and many other past actions, Miria latched on to her wounded area tenderly. She didn't know how long she was out, seeing as the cold slowed and stopped the blood flow. Her injury made it near impossible to get up; movement allowed blood to flow through the large gash and the pain to return.

The leader and survivor of the Northern Campaign stumbled back down onto the snowy ground as she let out a small yelp of pain. Trying a second time, the blood and hurt seemed to have increased twofold; as if an unknown force worked to keep her grounded.

Miria caught her breath before she picked up her sword that had lain next to her as she slept. Stabbing it hard and deep into the ground, the Phantom pulled herself to her feet with all her might, ignoring the intense discomfort that was keen on keeping her imprisoned. A long cry of pain escaped Miria as she slowly rose to her feet.

Standing on slight wobbly legs, Miria finally righted herself and stood strong and determined, back to her former glory. A gale of wind swept past her spiky mane, uniform, and open wound. With a heavy foot, she sunk her armored boot into the snow and pressed onward.

Her feet weren't the only things she found to be heavy as she walked. As Miria dragged her sword on the white powder, she soon found that a new kind of pain had replaced her battle wound, and this was much more unsettling and invaded her heart.

The Phantom could only gawk as she trekked through the frozen wasteland and with every step she took, she felt her heart sink deeper and deeper. Blood and bodies of her comrades and enemies and rubble from totaled buildings and houses littered the snowy earth.

'No... No this, this can't... There has to be someone, anyone.' Miria silently wept, for her comrades and for her inability to save them all.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to breakdown and wail until her body was wracked with sobs. It was her job to save everyone first and foremost and as long as she saved plenty, then her mission would be accomplished. But seeing the mass destruction and death, Miria had never felt like such a failure before.

'All these young women... Gone and horribly mutilated. What cruelty..?!' As she trudged through, the Phantom gazed upon the faces of her fallen comrades. She remembered them all. Miria knelt beside each warrior, closed their eyes and placed her hand on their forehead before ushering words of sorrow and peace. It was part of her job as a leader, and she had to find survivors. Using yoki to call out to whoever was alive would be dangerous as enemies could still be lurking near the vicinity. Although there weren't any yoki auras hanging in the air, Miria still had to be wary and ready.

Eventually, the Phantom picked up on a faint yoki aura, one that felt very familiar and strong. Miria picked up her pace. She found Deneve sitting on the snow with dual swords in hand. At one time, the single digit would have felt her heart swell at the fact that someone, and a dear friend at that, had survived. But as she stood only a few feet away from her, she discovered that her comrade was not in such high spirits despite the fact that she was alive.

Deneve had her head down and hands gripped tightly onto both swords with her legs sprawled out. Her wounds did not appear to be as bad as hers and with the lower ranked warrior's healing abilities, her injuries looked to be already gone, save for the dried blood.

This was not a time for celebration.

As Miria drew closer, Deneve snapped her head up and readied her weapons. She relaxed immediately upon recognition of the intruder. Number fifteen sighed in relief.

"Miria… I'm glad to see you alive."

"Likewise Deneve." The Phantom extended her hand towards her friend and helped her to her feet.

They nodded at each other before laying their stare on the scarred landscape. Neither had spoken, it was a difficult time to find words of appeasement. Miria looked down at Deneve's new sword and identified it as Undine's. She sighed internally and looked away.

"Have you found any other survivors?" Deneve asked.

"No. I take it you haven't found any either…" Their eyes never locked throughout their exchange.

Deneve dipped her head down briefly and placed her hand on her leader's shoulder.

"Miria… you're hurt." She removed her hand and narrowed her stare at the bleeding gash.

"It's fine. I'll be ok."

Deneve nodded and set her sights back on the land. Deciding that they had stayed there for long enough, the second survivor began to move and search for others.

"I should go. I'm going to look for Helen and Clare." Holstering her weapons, Deneve set out to search for her close comrades.

"Deneve, look for other survivors too." Miria called out and the retreating figure nodded.

The Phantom looked to the bright skies and sighed with a heavy heart. She was happy as could be that a close friend had made it, but she already passed by a few dead and each one was a blow to the heart that hurt more than being impaled. Miria fell to her knees and closed her eyes. Her world faded to black once more as she recalled the last time her and everyone under her command were together.

* * *

All twenty-four warriors stationed in Pieta assembled in the town hall. Miria sat behind a large desk cutting a yoki suppressant pill in half with her claymore.

"Each one of you will take one of these before battle." Miria addressed the crowd, holding the half pill for everyone to see.

"Half a suppressant pill?" A warrior asked.

"Taking just half will neither erase your yoki or hinder your ability to read yoma energy. Nothing will change," Miria assured them.

"Should you lose consciousness, immediately after your yoki stops flowing, the half pill will take into effect."

Stunned silence filled the room.

"So to summarize, we'll fool everyone into thinking we're dead." Flora summed up Miria's words.

"Our goal for tomorrow's battle is not to win, but to survive. Running away is not an option because we'll just become targets for the organization to destroy. That's why I want everyone to think we all died here."

Silence continued to fill the room before Miria started again.

"I think you all understand the gist of the plan, but the possibility of all of us walking out of this alive does not exist. If you prefer, you may call it a plan to save some by sacrificing the majority."

"I'm sorry, but I can't think of any other way. It's unacceptable, yes, but-"

"Excellent!" Undine exclaimed. All eyes were fixed upon her now.

"In a mission where no one survives, having at least a shred of hope for survival is more than satisfactory! And what's better is that the plan is fair. Single and double digits both have a shot of survival. The outcome of everyone still breathing is just a fantasy, but it's not impossible." Undine added, eyes of amazement and surprise still fixed on her.

"Indeed. I also think that this is our best option. No hard feelings to whoever is still breathing in the end. The survivors will carry the will and spirits of all twenty-four of us. Let's do that." Flora spoke, carrying on the conversation while unsheathing her sword.

"Let's all wish each other good luck, and hope for the best." Flora finished. Every warrior drew their swords and held it out amongst each other in a large circle that filled the entire room.

* * *

Miria woke up once again. After several hours, the sky had turned grey and the winds howled. She brought herself to her knees and started to weep as she felt only seven auras present. Her sadness could no longer be contained.

"Seven warriors…only seven had survived?..." She clenched her fists into the snow.

"Was this seriously…wasn't there a better way? ...Anything? Had I …?" Before she could question and berate herself any longer, she was brought to her feet by Helen and Clare.

"Miria, look at us. These are the lives that you managed to save," Deneve told her, the blood on the side of her head still dried and frozen. The remaining three watched Miria weep and listened to Deneve speak as they lay on the snow, surrounded by not only their own blood, but their comrades' as well.

"No one harbors ill feelings towards you. As long as we consider the feelings of those who fell, it's ok. We were truly lucky to have you with us, leading us. This is what I believe from the bottom of my heart."

Miria stared at Deneve wide-eyed before returning to softly weeping with the wind howling in the background.

**Sooo, what did you guys think? Like it, love it, hate it? Think it needs improvement in places? Please let me know :) Also, this will be one looooong ass story. So buckle in guys! You're in here for the long haul. Also, the flashback takes place in chapter 66 Joined By Souls pt 2. I reworded the dialogue because I didn't want to plagiarize.  
**

**Rodsworth: She's not kidding. The story is divided into five acts. Pretty lengthy but I'm sure you will all enjoy it. Oh, there was this time when she pla-  
**

**Not here!**

**Rodsworth: Fine. My apologies, miss.**

**Better. All right everyone, I'll be posting the second chapter hopefully next week. Till then. Come on Rods, I published my first fanfic. I need to celebrate. -mischievous grin-**

**Rodsworth: -sigh- very well. Have a great day, ladies and gentlemen.**


	2. Cold, Hard Truths

**A/NN: Greetings everyone! I thought I would be posting this after summer break, but I guess not. How fortunate for both reader and writer, right? **

**Rodsworth: Fortunate indeed. Milady seems to have found time and the opportunity to present today. She took a risk here. You should all feel honored. **

**Thanks Rods! Hm ok, I am going to take this time to respond to some of the people who reviewed. **

**dawnofanewday- I really would like to include another pairing, but I'm stuck with who to choose. Who do you guys want? HelenxDeneve or CynthiaxYuma? Clare and Raki will be a pair, obviously, but I can only take one more. One or none. Please let me know.**

**GoldeneRose- Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. Had to include additional parts to the original first draft because without it, it would've seemed shitty and empty. **

**Ok! -claps hands together- let's get started. Rods, curtains up. **

**Rodsworth: You're forgetting something again.**

**Oh right, Claymore does not belong to me, it belongs to Yagi-sama. You know what, how about every time I forget to add the disclaimer, feel free to do it for me. That'll be your new job now.**

**Rodsworth: But you're the writer, it's _your_ work. I feel like it will be better if it came from you. My new job will be just to remind you.**

**Ugh, fine. Whatever, we can discuss this matter further. For now, lets just start this shit already. I don't like to keep my lovely readers waiting. Curtains up.**

_Act I: The Past, Present, and Future  
_

Several minutes had passed until Miria stopped weeping tears for the dead. All seven of the remaining warriors sent to the north gathered around the four close comrades, but gave them enough room. They were friends, and the three did not wish to impede their small reunion.

Miria inhaled deeply and gazed at the faces of those who were standing with her. She knew all of their names and ranks. When she got news that she was to be stationed in Pieta along with twenty-four warriors serving under her command, Miria took the time to memorize everyone's rank and symbol. Their mission was to die, so someone had to remember them.

A few had managed to recover fully from their wounds, but most still nursed their injuries. Warrior number forty, Yuma, was currently being supported by Cynthia, warrior number fourteen who held her aching and bleeding temple. Warrior number thirty-one, Tabitha, gingerly held her slashed shoulder. Blood had spurted and froze on her mouth and chin. Helen, warrior number twenty-two and one of Miria's close comrades, leaned on one leg so as to not aggravate her injured thigh that had a hole in the middle, barely missing any artery or bone. Despite their painful wounds, each person looked to Miria with strength and loyalty. If there was any pain or sadness, which there still was among all of them, they did a fine job of hiding it from their leader.

Miria studied each of their conditions and addressed Cynthia, "Cynthia, tend to everyone's wounds. Same goes for everyone else. Then assemble in the town hall in fifteen minutes. I'll be waiting for all of you there. Excuse me." Miria turned and walked towards the remains of Pieta's town hall, leaving her comrades to care for their own injuries in the biting cold that they were long immune to.

Miria slowly trudged through the rubble-filled remains of the once majestic hall. Miraculously, no blood was shed or found here. The table from where she sat before when she instructed everyone to take a half-pill before battle was missing two of its legs. The room was missing a large chunk off one of the corners and the wall opposite. Snow and debris invaded from the new openings and most of the paintings that hung on the walls were on the ground and torn. The only part that still looked decent was the northwest corner; a painting and a small wooden chair still stood, no rubble disturbing the only two objects.

Miria pulled the chair to where the damaged table half-lied on the ground and plopped herself down. She drew in a heavy breath and hung her head.

'They're alive.. Seven warriors had survived. So my plan wasn't a total failure, then.'

While the deaths of her comrades still hung heavy in the air, the fact that seven had survived had reminded Miria that her plan worked, and that guilt had no place in her nor her comrades' hearts. They survived, that was that.

'What do I do? Hilda, what do I do..?' The leader brought her hands up to her head and firmly fisted the spiky locks near the crown. Her first instincts and feelings told her to it was all right and necessary to grieve and get angry. But those feelings and actions were not the right responses at such a sensitive and crucial time. She was lost; she didn't know what to think, feel, or do. And so were her comrades.

Frustration had now became the dominant emotion in the leader, replacing sadness. She was frustrated with the fact that she thought she could have done a better job, she was frustrated with the organization for staging all of this, she was frustrated with not knowing what to do, and she was frustrated with not being stronger. With more strength, the Phantom felt as if she could have defeated more awakened beings, defeated Rigaldo, and maybe would have saved more lives. Recalling the battle with the Lion King, Miria cursed herself as she vividly remembered the scene and her actions.

When he first appeared, Miria stood unmoving and quivered with fear. She watched as her comrades were getting torn to bloody shreds with his razor sharp claws. First was Veronica, she had never stood a chance, nor did she have time to register what was happening before she was sliced into three parts. Second was Undine. Her arms were crudely sliced off before she land a scratch on the beast, then her chest erupted in a red diagonal fountain. Third was Jean, she was the only team leader who fought valiantly against the dreaded Lion King. But even she too could not defeat him. At least she died saving Clare in the end. The last one to fall was Flora. It was all too fast, really. Rigaldo had just suddenly appeared before her, impaled one of his nails in her forehead, and swiped down, splitting her in two. Replaying her death in her head nearly made the Phantom gag and vomit. She had been through many harsh battles and had seen more than enough of her comrades die and become impaled, sliced, and beheaded, but never before had she seen a warrior be split into two halves instantaneously. It was all a mess and something she never wanted to see again.

She felt responsible for the leaders' and everyone else's deaths. Had she moved, she probably could have saved them from death. Clare, Cynthia, Helen, and Deneve had at least _tried _to take down Rigaldo. They had more courage and bravery than her. 'It's all my fault... Veronica, Undine, Jean, and Flora...please forgive me. I wasn't strong enough to save you all, let alone act.'

As the Phantom continued to stew in her frustrations, a decision had come to her mind. It was downright foolish and highly suicidal with a minimal chance of success, but one she was determined to see through, even if she had to do it alone. Miria clenched her fist tight and drew her gaze upwards. The signature look of steel determination every great leader had had radiated off Miria's face yet again.

'These girls need me now, and I have to be strong. I have to do something, something for them. But first, they need to know the truth.'

* * *

The survivors of Pieta gathered in the now broken and rubble-filled town hall. Miria half sat on the half table before everyone and studied their faces and conditions. Their wounds had healed, but their spirits were still hurt. Although, it appeared as if they had recovered internally only by a small percent. Other than the fact that she had a small handful of survivors, Miria felt most relieved when she finally acknowledged the fact that Helen, Deneve, and Clare had survived. Those three were her closest and strongest comrades, and she was more concerned for their well-being in the battles than any other warriors. Now here they all were, alongside three other warriors and patiently waiting new orders from their captain.

"My fellow sisters... I am most glad as can be and relieved to see you all standing before me. Our last battle and the aftermath was the first time I saw something most depressing and regretful. I am truly sorry from the bottom of my heart for everyone's loss and I wish I could have saved everyone. We lost good warriors back there, warriors who were more than common comrades and should have never fallen. We must honor them by carrying on their spirits with us. Now, I would like for everyone to state their name and rank, I'll start. My name is Miria, number six. Formerly known as Phantom Miria."

"My name is Cynthia. Number fourteen."

"I am Deneve, number fifteen."

"Name's Helen. Number twenty-two."

"My name is Tabitha. Number thirty-one."

"I-I am Yuma. Number forty.."

"Clare. Number forty-seven."

"All right! Now that that's out of the way, what do we do now, Miria?" Helen asked.

The leader briefly looked at Helen, then at everyone else. She decided that now was the best time to explain everything behind the northern campaign. After all, they did deserve answers.

"Ok, you all deserve to know the truth, so here it goes. Listen up, everyone," Miria rose from her position as she spoke. All warriors gave their undivided attention to the only single-digit present, anxious to hear what Miria has addressed for them.

"Each one of us stationed here, was meant to die. No one was supposed to survive this, meaning that this whole campaign was just an opportunity for the organization to buy time while getting rid of us troublemakers."

"Troublemakers? But we haven't done anything to upset the organization! Or, at least I don't think so..." Yuma voiced. The news made her uneasy, but she still kept her timid nature.

"Heh, speak for yourself." Helen joked, elbowing Deneve in the ribs slightly.

Ignoring her long-time friend, Deneve spoke up, "Explain Miria. Why would the organization send half of its forces to die in a war that does not pertain to us. Even if we are all troublemakers, I don't think it would be wise to send twenty-four warriors north just to die and fail. Doesn't make sense."

"Exterminating awakened beings is our job, Deneve," Miria answered. "Although it may have been a war we could have avoided, a lot of people would have still died."

"Ok but wait! Hold on a sec, this is all still unclear." Cynthia lightly pressed her fingertips to her temples. It was plenty of disturbing information to process for her, and everyone else. "We may not need to know the reason why awakened beings have gathered here, but I want to know why the organization did not send stronger warriors to fight with us. Why have we not seen numbers one through five? Surely, if they were present-"

"Yes, if they were present, we may have fared better. But the truth is..." The Phantom paused. Six survivors stood before her, anxiously waiting for the truth they technically did die for. The truth that had cost them seventeen good lives. The truth they rightfully deserved. "We died so Alicia and Beth, numbers one and two, could be completed. Numbers three and five were on standby nearby, but away from the fighting. If any of us ran, they would have struck and killed us for insubordination."

"C-completed?! What does that mean?!'"

"It means Yuma, that Alicia and Beth have been going through various experiments done in secrecy by the organization." She paused again. Shock, disappointment, and disgust were etched on their faces. They were all upset, and if this wasn't bad enough, hearing what Miria will say next may push them over the edge. But just as it was difficult to hear and acknowledge, delivering these words were just as hard. The truths that left Miria's lips left an awful taste in her mouth. She drew in a deep breath before continuing. "We died so they could fully awaken in battle without losing their minds and whatever humanity they had before working for the organization."

"...Is-, is that what's going to happen to us?" A voice broke the silence softly. Miria's head had been casted down at that moment, so she didn't know who ushered those words.

"...I don't know." The Phantom picked her head up and faced the crowd with newfound strength. "But listen, all of you. What I am about to do now is suicide, foolish, and has a small chance of success. I do not ask nor request that you all follow me, but I am going to stand and work to destroy the organization. I've stood by and watched as they tore lives apart with their horrific and cruel crimes. It's time to finally put a stop to them. And with them thinking we're all dead, I cannot think of a better opportunity or blessing. Remember, you all do not have to follow me. In fact, I'd be thankful if you all just stay here and live the rest of your lives in peace. I don't want anyone else to die anymore-"

"Are you serious, Miria?!" Helen protested. The air became heavy again, thanks to her outburst.

"You expect us to sit by and wither away while you fulfill our greatest dream on your own? To what have we all fought and died side by side together for all this time? Have you learned nothing about camaraderie and friendship?"

"She's right, Miria." Deneve stepped forward and placed a hand on her best friend's shoulder. "If you go, we will too. Even to the depths of the underworld."

"I will follow captain Miria into battle!" Tabitha stepped forward too as she proudly declared.

"So will I."

"A-and I! I may be weak, but I don't want to be left behind. I too want to take down the organization. And I'll work hard to not become a hindrance to everyone!"

"Me too. I'm in."

The six survivors stood before Miria with their chests and heads held high. They wore the same look of strength and determination Miria was wearing before they gathered. The leader could not help but smile with such pride internally. But she could not accept this just yet, "What if our fellow sisters who fell wanted you to stay here and rest. Would you not fulfill their request?"

"I'm sorry but we could not. Not when you, our leader, would be out there fighting for our freedom alone. However, we will carry on their spirits with ours."

"Right. What Deneve here said. And if we do such things, if we do follow you into battle, the souls of all who fell will be fighting alongside us."

"Miria, if we do defeat the organization, only then will those souls will truly and genuinely be put to rest. They will also be avenged."

Hearing those words from her three closest comrades brought a small tear to the corner of the leader's silver eyes. "Our mission this time is not to survive, but to win at any cost. We cannot fail here. This time, we will not be fighting awakened beings, but our sisters-in-arms. Can you all turn your swords against them?"

"It will be difficult, Miria. But we will not kill any of our comrades." Cynthia spoke up.

"Damn right we won't! We'll defeat them, but we won't kill a single one of them. And you said it yourself too. You don't want anyone else to die, well neither do we."

This time, Miria let the smile overtake her lips. She drew her sword as she strode towards her comrades. Her claymore was held out for all to join, and each one of them did so. All seven of them smiled as their swords became one with another. Seconds passed until Helen decided to break the silence.

"Ok, so... Now what?"

Miria was the first to withdraw and sheathe her sword, the rest following suit. "We need to clean up the city. We have to bury our fallen sisters and..."

"And?"

"We wait for my informant."

**A/NN: All right fine, I'll do a better job of remembering to put the disclaimer.**

**Rodsworth: Much better. If you do remember to add the disclaimer, I'll-Oh. Your audience is here.**

**Oh crap! -straightens self out- Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading the second installment. Stay tuned because we still got a HELL of a lot more. I deviated from my original draft here...again.**

**Rodsworth: If you keep deviating from the originals, why don't you just discard them?**

**Because I need them. Spent two years writing what I have, I'm not throwing them away. Besides, they serve as guides mostly and I do include the originals. Ah well, it's closing time. Everyone! Please review and I'll have the third underway a few weeks from now. Till then! Come on, Rods. Our other work needs work.**

**Rodsworth: Goodbye everyone. I hope you all enjoyed.**


	3. The Informant

**A/NN: Hello ladies and gentlemen! Your host and cohost are here today to present the third chapter of my pride and joy. Come on out here, Rods!**

**Rodsworth: Hello everyone. I hope you all have been doing well. **

**Right! Well, in this chapter, I have once again reworded the dialogue from the canon into my own words. Will. Not. Plagiarize. Right Rods?**

**Rodsworth: Right, don't want that.**

**Indeed. Ok, now, I have asked you all lovely people which pairing you would like to see in this story, HelenxDeneve or CynthiaxYuma. Well, thanks to a certain awesome reader, I have made my decision! I will add CynthiaxYuma pairing to this story and I shall make a HelenxDeneve one-shot. I really hope you are all satisfied with this. If not, please tell me and we can discuss this matter further. Anyways! Let's get started. CLAYMORE DOES NOT BELONG TO ME! Happy Rods?  
**

**Rodsworth: Quite.**

**Good, curtains up.**

_Act I: The Past, Present, and Future  
_

The organization's men gathered inside the main, dimly lit hall. Handlers stood before the council and the chief, Rimuto, who sat in the center.

"What's the status in the north?" Chief Rimuto demanded.

"The warriors engaged twenty awakened beings. We do not know the number of casualties, however," a man in black responded.

"And what about Isley's advancements?" Rimuto asked.

"Still very distant from Pieta. He appears to be proceeding south at human speed."

"So all of this is just another one of Isley's antics. How aggravating. However, it seems we have bought ourselves additional time thanks to this. Is Alicia still not finished yet?" the chief demanded again.

"Right now, she doesn't go beyond ninety-five percent. We require a little more time," the man in black explained.

"I understand. That means the warriors in the north just need to hold out a little while longer until she is complete, correct?" Rimuto deduced. But before they could get another word out, they were startled and interrupted by Galatea's sudden appearance.

"Ah, Galatea. How rare for you to show yourself at the organization willingly. Don't you have matters to attend to?" Rimuto asked, phrasing the question as if it were an order.

"Well thanks to you, I do. Because half of my comrades are stationed in the north, I've been really busy. But now that new warriors in our ranks have been assigned to areas one by one, they've helped lighten the load on my shoulders. Oh, and aren't these new additions into our forces a little early with so many of my comrades still fighting in Pieta?"

"It's just a matter of time before they all die. This is hard on everyone. Losing half of our fighting force in such a manner is a serious blow and at the same time a troublesome state of affairs." he informed, his face and tone retaining the same monotony, showing no signs of emotion or sympathy.

"Really, that's it? There's no way the organization couldn't have known about this earlier. Discarding the disobedient warriors by sending them to the north to buy time was the goal, right?" the number three questioned, insulted that the organization cared so little for her sisters in arms.

"You need to stop making such dangerous accusations, Galatea. It would be unfortunate if those with big mouths heard of this." Rimuto warned, his eyes narrowing in dangerously on the God Eye.

"You won't be treated special for much longer. You should know that the next generation's "Eye" is being developed right now."

'Is she hotter than me?' was Galatea's first thought, annoyance creeping up on her face. Instead of showing her displeasure, Galatea smirked and masked her irritation. She was going to get the truth out of these vile men one way or the other, and yelling at them just wasn't her style. "Is that so? The training of a more obedient "Eye." And I assume you will send Ms. New Eye to monitor the north? Also, number five, Raphaela, shall be with her too, correct? Those who flee serving as fodder will be slayed for insubordination, right?"

Rimuto deadpanned, thoroughly irritated that the highest ranked warrior at his disposal right now had saw through his motives.

"See, this is what we're talking about. We keep telling you that these kinds of thoughts are bad."Rubel spoke, drawing everyone's attention and saving the chief from further shame and embarrassment.

"We got a request to destroy a multitude of awakened beings that were acknowledged in the north. Although we sent half of our fighting force to combat them, they were overpowered and defeated. We lost all of our warriors stationed there as a result, that is all."

"Don't you mean "are trying to lose"?" the God Eye corrected.

"Indeed. The result is still not final. Anyways, return to your territory quietly. You have my condolences for your comrades." Rubel dismissed, showing a bit more concern than Rimuto did.

Galatea scoffed and walked away.

"I think it would be wise to hasten the completion of the new Eye as well," the chief suggested.

"She is remarkable, but she's been around longer than we had hoped. Once they go past their expiration date, they begin learning too much. Warriors who die in a moderate amount of time are ideal."

* * *

Galatea trekked through the dense forest in her territory. The calm, flowing stream adjacent to the God Eye contrasted her current irritated state. She was furious at how the organization cared so little for her fellow sisters. Some of the warriors stationed in Pieta were cherished friends to her, even if she couldn't remember their names correctly. Animals and insects scurried out of her way as she stormed off to her destination. Twigs and dead leaves snapped under her foot as she marched with anger through the forest.

'Damn it!' her fists balled and her teeth ground against each other.

'Those sons of bitches.' Galatea swatted a branch in her path off to the side, causing the wood to detach from the tree and crash to the grassy ground. God Eye Galatea was known for her tremendous amount of strength and power when she released her yoki, but even without it, the tall and beautiful woman's abilities were still a force to be reckoned with.

'Twenty-four of my comrades died for two?'

The angered number three finally reached her destination: a narrow cave entrance well hidden behind the cover of trees and thick branches, located at the base of one of the small mountains in Toulouse. Any soul passing by without trained eyes would surely miss the very slim crack that is an entrance to a hideout. None but the God Eye and her associate knew of this top secret place.

Pushing the branches aside, Galatea pressed her back as close as she could to the wall and sidestepped inside the hideout. Her uniform scraped against the two sides of rock she was sandwiched between, but not enough to cause major tears.

Finally, she reached the heart of the cave: a spacious and cozy den that contained exquisite mahogany furniture, bookshelves, and two personal chests that housed personal belongings and spare equipment. It really was a wonder and a mystery how all these things managed to get inside without suffering any damage. Galatea shared this secret hideout with Miria. Here, they could exchange information and battle strategies without the fear of getting caught and be away from the public's presence.

The God Eye jumped down from the ledge of the entrance/exit and walked towards the extravagant king sized bed on the other end of the room. She dragged her tired feet through the dirt and passed by the mahogany desk and chair, a large dresser that held several cloaks and uniforms, the bookshelf that contained plenty of books and maps, and a beautifully crafted table with four chairs to match. Galatea removed her sword and leaned it against a small mahogany dresser that stood next to the fancy bed. Unbeknownst to Miria, the dresser had a very rare and expensive bottle of strawberry wine that was only sold in Lacroa during springtime. The number three plopped down heavily on the bed face first, the mattress bouncing and creaking as it withstood the weight and shockwave of the strong, tall, beautiful woman. Sleep overtook her as she recalled the last time she and Miria saw each other.

* * *

"Miria, you know the chances of surviving this is zero," Galatea warned, her arms were crossed over her chest as she watched the spiky-haired leader pace back and forth from where she half-sat on the mahogany desk.

"What can I do, Gala? If I leave, I die and if I stay and fight, I die. The warriors that will follow me into battle are inexperienced and have shown rather unfavorable traits. To be honest, I don't know if I can lead all these people." Her hopes, chances of survival, and spirit were fleeing from her. This mission was forced, the Phantom was doomed from the minute her handler gave her the briefing. Miria stopped pacing and trudged towards the bed. With a heavy heart and mind, the leader of the suicide mission sunk her derriere into the mattress.

"The organization is just buying time here. They know you lot cannot defeat the awakened beings in Pieta, so they're just using this as a means to further complete Alicia and Beth."

"I know. I...can't really see a way out of this, this time. You know I've always... came out of every dark situation the organization has put me through. I don't think I can come out of this one." Miria laid back on the bed and pressed her palms to her face. Death was inevitable, they both knew it. Galatea rose from the desk and slowly strode towards the doomed single-digit.

"If this was just a gathering of average-level awakened beings, you would probably be fine. But you're going to go up against the Silver King Isley. You are not going to survive."

"You need not remind me. I just..." with her palms still fixed on her face, Miria sighed audibly. Whatever she was going to say, the single-digit killed it on her tongue right then and there. She was scared and frustrated, and she would rather not show these feelings to the God Eye, she would maintain her strong and defiant disposition. But her efforts proved futile, Galatea saw through her, felt what she felt, and understood. Miria had every right to feel this way. Any other person and the number three would simply hum in acknowledgement and say 'you're screwed', but the woman who currently lied on the bed with her hands covering her face was different; she was one of the very few people the tall, higher-ranked woman actually cared about. And for that, the God Eye would fight for her.

Galatea reached the bed and took a seat next to her contact. Miria sat up and briefly looked at the other woman with lost eyes before shifting her gaze to the opposite side. The number three tentatively placed a hand on Miria's armored shoulder and gave it a light shake. They stayed that way for who knows how long, neither one with the knowledge or ability to provide words of comfort, or any words in general. Until, an idea formed in the God Eye's mind.

"Maybe, maybe you don't survive."

Miria pulled away and looked at her with her eyebrows scrunched together, "What?" confusion and slight offense present in her tone.

"Just.. hear me out,"

"...Ok." Skepticism had replaced the other two feelings that had previously occupied her voice.

"I've been studying the effects of the suppressant pill in close detail for the past two weeks. I've snooped around Dae's office and I've discovered new capabilities of the pill."

"Interesting. Go on,"

"Well, one of the new things I learned was that if you cut the pill in half and take it before being killed in action, the med would take effect and mask your aura, if you're still barely alive. It won't bring you back, but it would-"

"It would give your enemy the impression that you're gone. Basically, we'd be playing dead."

"Yeah. Well, I figured it would be better than nothing. Having even a miniscule chance at walking out of that winter hellhole alive."

"It is, thank you for telling me this, Gala. How did you come to this finding?"

"That's...not important." The informant turned her head and darted her eyes around nervously. Miria picked up on this and once again furrowed her eyebrows, but she chose to let this one go. The Phantom was already thankful that she had been presented with such delicate information and if the God Eye decided to keep some secrets to herself, then so be it.

"I just wish that numbers three to five would be stationed in Pieta as well. Having the number six warrior as the leader is laughable and pathetic."

"Well, you are Phantom Miria, the one who is said to be stronger than any number one when working in a group. Maybe they thought you'd be fine. Obviously not. But, you should know," Galatea took a breath to gather herself for a moment. This part would be the hardest to get through for themselves. If Miria had even a shred of hope about the mission, then learning about the God Eye's part would eradicate it completely. Even saying this would make Galatea feel no better than the men in black. "Raphaela and I are being stationed just outside the boundary of Pieta. We are tasked to make sure that anywho decides to abandon their duties will be severely punished. Number four, Ophelia, was killed a short while ago. Reports said that she awakened and was slain by a fellow warrior, we do not know who. I'm sorry Miria, that we won't be helping you."

The Phantom sagged her shoulders and sighed, half in further disappointment she thought couldn't be possible anymore, and the other half in cruel relief. While she did wish to indulge on the news that her most hated comrade had been killed, she had bigger news to settle in on. Miria would have to have a moment for celebrations later. Steeling herself and shoving her satisfaction aside, she answered back softly, "Don't be. It's not your fault."

Returning the previous gesture, Miria placed her hand on the God Eye's pauldron-less shoulder and gave it a light shake. Their silver eyes locked and small smiles curved their lips upwards.

The God Eye and the Phantom remained connected through the physical touch of a strong, calloused hand on a soft, muscular shoulder and the deep lock of silver eyes staring tenderly into one another. They remained like that for what seemed like an eternity. The longer they stayed like that, the closer the link between them became. Galatea's silver eyes dipped briefly down to Miria's lips. Against her judgement and thinking, she leaned forward a centimeter. This notion did not go unnoticed; Miria felt herself mirroring the other woman's movements only by a mere fraction before she rose from the bed and faced her back to her informant.

The sudden movement hammered a tiny hole in Galatea's heart, but her mind soon came into play and dismissed and reprimanded the God Eye for her actions and childish reaction. Reminding herself who she was, the number three shrugged it off like nothing happened and gave a quick pat to her thighs. Pride, vanity, and arrogance once again radiating off of her.

With her back still facing Galatea, Miria slung her claymore into her sheathe and fixed her appearance slightly. Turning around, she found the God Eye still seated on the bed smiling with such smugness that still irritated her. Miria gave a frustrated huff at the sight. Trust the number three warrior to kill any precious moments with pride and arrogance only a highly ranked single-digit could produce. It was the biggest problem Miria had with her; she hated the way Galatea could push off any special time or feelings away like dust on her armor. It made her wonder if she mattered at all to Galatea.

Refraining from clenching her fists, Miria casted her eyes off to the small rock by her foot as she quietly murmured, "I should go. Have to meet the troops in the north."

"Ok, but one more thing before you go,"

Refusing to look at her informant, Miria failed to see that the God Eye had slowly stood up and walked up to her. Miria let out a small whimper in shock as she unexpectedly felt Galatea carefully embrace her, her face buried in the crook of her shoulder while Galatea's cheek pressed comfortably against Miria's temple. Strong arms held her gently before one of her hands caressed her spiky mane tenderly. Miria couldn't stop her own limbs from reaching around and wrapping the taller woman in her own embrace, only this being hesitant at first before honestly melting into Galatea's hug. Being snug in the God Eye's arms made her feel safe and eliminated the worries and dread of the Northern Campaign, if only for a second.

"Miria... Please, be safe.." her voice uncharacteristically soft, Galatea struggled to find the right words as she continued to stroke her comrade's hair.

The Phantom felt the corners of her lips curve upwards slightly and her arms tighten around the stronger woman in response. She was happy that Galatea could not see her facial expression.

"I'll try..."

* * *

Galatea bolted upright as she felt numerous above-average yoki signatures leave the Alphonse region. Quickly grabbing her sword, Galatea slung it on her back and rushed out towards the entrance/exit, expertly avoiding the furniture but sweeping up loose parchments in a small whirlwind behind her.

'Damn, they never stood a chance. Miria...'

**A/NN: All right! Another chapter down. The second main character finally makes her appearance! Plot progression!**

**Rodsworth: -sigh- you just had to introduce her in the third chapter didn't you?**

**What? She's ranked number three, so it's only fitting that she enters the story in the third installment. Besides, a woman like her, she would always be fashionably (frustratingly) late to anything.  
**

**Rodsworth: Hmm, I suppose so. I can't change anything here anyway.**

**Damn right. So! -claps hands together- I hope you all enjoyed reading, please leave a review and let me know if I need to make corrections, and I will have the fourth up in a few weeks. Rods, is there anything else we're forgetting?  
**

**Rodsworth: None, young miss. Shall I begin closing?**

**Yes sir. Go ahead and wrap things up. Take care everyone! Till next time.**

**Rodsworth: Goodbye everyone.**


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